


Puberty

by Sab



Category: Jeremiah (TV)
Genre: Drabble, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2003-05-03
Updated: 2003-05-03
Packaged: 2017-10-02 08:54:16
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 497
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4640
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sab/pseuds/Sab
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>For Killa.</p>
    </blockquote>





	Puberty

**Author's Note:**

> For Killa.

"It wasn't three hours after we'd buried the last body," says Markus, and he refills his glass.

Erin watches and waits. It's long past midnight and most of the folks have gone to bed; the night shift's taking its place on patrol, in hydroponics, the study bay, security. She's got reports to file, but, like everything else when Markus is talking, they don't seem important right now. "Tell me what happened," she says.

"There were about thirty of us living here then," he says. "Nathan, Sarah, Simon, all the kids of the original researchers. The beginning --" he sweeps a hand. "Of all this."

"Yeah."

"I went downstairs," he says. "We'd tried to cook, made a mess of...something or other, for dinner. Spaghetti, I think it was. I made a plate, got a Snapple from the fridge, balanced it all on a big metal tray and took it down. I'd been debating all day whether to tell the others about her, and I knew, somehow, with that tray and that Snapple I'd made my decision. She'd be my responsibility. Mine alone."

Erin uncrosses her legs. Talk of Meaghan always makes her uncomfortable. "You took care of her for fifteen years, Markus," she hears herself saying. "Tell me. What."

He rubs his forehead, pushes up one fleecy sleeve and scratches at a cut on his forearm. Erin tries not to watch as the muscles shift and tighten underneath his skin. "I brought the tray downstairs, pushed it through the slot, and oh, she was so glad to see me, the way she smiled, it just --"

"I know Meaghan loves you," Erin says. "She told me. It's -- I just feel like after all she'd been through -- I just wonder if it's not misplaced."

Markus laughs a quick bark. "No," he says. "Not misplaced. You have to understand, this is days after the Big Death hit in force. Hours after the last of our...parents died. I was the oldest living soul in Thunder Mountain --"

"Except Meaghan."

He nods. "Right. Fifteen, Erin. Probably the oldest person for miles in any direction."

She tries to lighten the mood. "So you're a late bloomer," she grins.

"I was in love," he says. Erin stiffens.

"Maybe you thought you were --"

"I was in love with Meaghan," Markus says. "I am. In love with Meaghan. I felt --"

The implication makes her sick to her stomach. "Markus."

He rocks in the chair, leans his head back and she watches his Adam's apple bob as he swallows.

"No," Erin says. "You couldn't have been. If you were -- you mean really? You mean -- sexual -- like, love?"

"Like, love," he says. "We hadn't even bleached the floors, or filtered the air, or, Jesus, washed the blood off our hands."

She stands up, shaking. "I really should go," she says.

He drains the glass and dismisses her with a nod. She turns for the door.

"I should be dead," he says quietly. She doesn't turn around.

"Maybe," she says.


End file.
